Broken Toys
by LittleGreenRidingHood
Summary: She was unlike anyone he had ever known – haughty, secretive and angry. But he could learn to like her.   AoiXOC. Rating may be subject to change.


Yes, I am aware this is a path that has been taken too many times. Aoi with an OC. But, I do love Aoi. . . Just not with Misaki. So please allow me to introduce my own character into the world of Kaichou Wa Maid-sama!

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. Not even the OC, because she hates to be controlled.

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><p><span>Broken Toys<span>

Chapter 1: Abscond

_Abscond- Intransitive Verb. To depart secretly and hide oneself_

She was so incredibly disgusted. With those fake fools who clung to her arms, with the superficial compliments of those wolves in disguise, the people who only paid attention to her to get a fatter wallet. She hated all those bastards. She hated their ridiculous infatuations with money, their double personalities, their thinly veiled cruelty. She was so ill-suited to this high class life; a puzzle piece that wouldn't fit, the odd one out in a sea of money seeking bloodhounds. So Evangeline Walker left the stifling air of her childhood, to the one place her mother wouldn't dare to follow her to: Japan.

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><p>It hurt. He didn't know what this feeling was, but it hurt more than anything he had ever experienced before. And it was all because of her, that annoying manly tomboy. He saw a flash of dark hair, and his chest clenched uncertainly, his breath caught in his throat. He felt hope soar in his heart, until it plummeted to a crash.<p>

That dark hair was followed by blonde._ He_ was with her. That too tall, nosy freak, who swooped in and took the what he wanted even before he knew it. Aoi cursed. It sucked, seeing them together. He kept on mentally slapping himself, vowing to be happy, instead of feeling the sides of his mouth involuntarily pulling downwards every time he saw their fingers entwined together. Aoi-chan wasn't nearly as cute when he had a furrow between his eyes.

"Oh, Aoi-chan!" Misaki called out, waving cheerfully-and obliviously, he noted angrily. Didn't she know anything? "How are you?"

Aoi noticed with distaste that her clothing as uncute as always, and he happily accepted her lack of cuteness as a distraction. It kept his mind off of admitting how pretty she was, despite everything he said.

Even as his heart hammered away and his legs wobbled -why were they wobbling? How stupid was that?- he still managed to scoff. "What kind of clothes are those, woman? Even after I went through the trouble of hand-making cute clothes for you! Those were Aoi-originals! One of a kind! You'll be happy to have them when I'm a world famous designer, charging thousands for each dress!"

He gestured to the excessive frills and bows that littered his clothing, and then to the golden curls on his head, the epitome of cuteness. "You need to learn from someone like me!"

Misaki laughed, and he was distracted from his tirade by it's empowering, attention-grabbing sound. Stumbling over his words, he felt her hand ruffle his hair in a wonderfully close gesture. "Sure, Aoi-chan."

He fought to keep the embarrassing blush from surfacing, and shouted after her as she walked into the changing rooms, "I-Idiot! Don't touch me like that!"

Breathing deeply, he calmed down his turbulent emotions, and forced himself to shove the image of Misaki out of his mind. He then turned around—

Only to be face to face with the cold, calculating eyes of Usui Takumi.

He shrieked, stumbling back to grab hold of the counter. "Wha-What are you do-o-oing?"

"Kyah," Usui said flatly, his lean, sinewy figure bent over to see eye to eye with the shorter male. "Aoi-chan looks so _cute_ when he blushes."

He paled. Usui knew. He knew. Despite Aoi's best attempts at masking the odd swell of feelings, this weird alien. . ._thing_ saw through him immediately. Again, his traitorous cheeks burst into color.

"I don't know w-what you're talk-king about! L-like I'd like someone t-that manly and un-uncute!"

Usui leaned even closer -damn his height- and stared at Aoi, ignoring the younger boy's discomfort. "I don't know what you're talking about, Aoi. I just commented on your blush. . . " he paused, his eyes keenly noting Aoi's tension.

Then, he asked with pseudo-curiosity, "What were _you_ talking about?"

Nearly tripping over the hem of his dress, Aoi ran out of the cafe as fast as he could.

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><p>She didn't think that she had ever been this hungry. Ever since she was a child, food never had a price tag. Some internal part of her simply assumed that all the gourmet turkeys and lambs appeared out of thin air. How stupid she was. Walking through the sidewalks of this odd country, where everyone was dark haired and scurried across the concrete like ants, she tried to quiet the grumbling of her stomach and the migraine she was developing.<p>

Heaving her large duffel bag over he shoulder, she walked past a frilly, overdecorated shop. Evangeline eyed it with distaste. She really couldn't understand what motivated people to decorate themselves and shops with those garnish laces and accessories. It seemed so irritating, so overdone.

Stumbling, she fought off another wave of hunger. Why, of all seasons, did she have to run away in the middle of _summer_? She hated summer- just by walking in the heat made her feeling thick and heavy.

The door of the cafe opened, and she basked in the cool air and smell of food that swept out of it. Standing there, she took a deep breathe, and swayed. Suddenly, her limbs locked together, and black dots swam in her eyes.

And then she was falling, falling in front of an oddly decorated shop, still trying to command her legs to move.

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><p>Yanking the front door open, Aoi sprinted, for once ignoring how scuffed his Mary-Janes would get. He couldn't believe how idiotic he was- did he really believe that he could hide his feelings for Misaki forever? But of all people to find out, it had to be Usui Takumi. That stupid giant who was hyped up on steroids, the only guy who wouldn't fall for Aoi-chan. He scowled even harder, and felt his shoe connect with something. . . soft. He tripped -wait, was that a body? Falling hard against the concrete, he looked at the small, unmoving shape. Crap. Did he kill her? Now he had to go on the run, and how on earth would he be able to post regular Aoi-chan pictures on his website then? Regaining his balance, he inspected the object of his collision.<p>

The first thing he saw was a head of auburn hair, rich and thick, that curled at her shoulders. Then: perfect skin, arching eyebrows, all on a heart-shaped face. She looked so peaceful, it was as if she were sleeping. Was she? Aoi wondered. Did foreigners -yes, he thought, she was a foreigner. She had an air around her that couldn't have come from Japan- like her sleep on sidewalks? Deciding that she was, by some unknown means, unconscious, he looked closer. After years of inspecting girl after girl, naming their many flaws with perfect ease, it had become a natural reaction upon meeting any female. He looked at her clothes, which were atrociously dull- all dark colors, with no accents. Tch. Did she bore herself to death looking at her reflection?

Grabbing her by the shoulders, he dragged her back to Maid Latte, snarling at all the passerby who stopped to stare at the young, overdressed girl, who looked like she was trying to kidnap the teenager in her arms.

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><p>She was floating. Being weightless wasn't as fun as she expected, because she couldn't figure out where that amazing smell was coming from. She shifted, trying to pull up her head, which felt heavy and dizzy.<p>

"Get up." A loud, rude voice finally jerked her awake, and she sat up, nearly stabbing her eye out with the end of a fork.

"Watch where you're pointing that thing," she muttered groggily, rubbing her eye.

Her eyes followed the fork, wincing at the poofs and ribbons on the sleeve of the mysterious person, until she looked into the brightest, bluest eyes she had ever seen - so bright, that they had to be contacts. Narrowing her eyes, she looked at the perfectly formed blond curls, the aggressive set of the girl's mouth, the haughty lift of her chin. She was looking at a real life barbie doll.

"Excuse me," she said, grinding out her manners even though her internal alarms were going off, in this odd, new place, next to a girl she'd never choose to be next to,"I'm afraid I don't know your name."

"Aoi-chan," the girl replied shortly, shoving a plate with an omelet on it into her face. Evangeline frowned at the suffix. Really, it was rude to call someone she had just met with such a term, even if it was to make -What was her name again? Ai-san. That seemed right. Even if it was to make Ai-san seem cuter. She hated girls who did those kinds of things -the girls who employed their sneakily cute tactics to make themselves more lovable.

And then she recognized the smell. That warm, moist smell that had been calling to her in her dream like fog, that almost completely distracted her from the porcelain doll in her company. With regret, she tore her attention away from the food.

"Would you mind telling me why I'm here- and where I am?" she asked, watching Ai-Chan - Ai-san, she corrected herself- smooth out her dress and fix her hair.

"Well," the blonde said airily, "You're here, at Maid Latte, because I found you lying on the sidewalk like some hobo all passed out." Snorting angrily, she added, "You had the guts to let me trip over you."

"Excuse me?" She felt her eyes widen in shock, and and she angrily tightened her jaw. Did this girl actually have the nerve to pin the blame on her? It wasn't like she actually bothered to try and trip strangers, and if that girl DID trip, it was probably because of the excessive frills on her clothing.

"Most people would be able to see a girl passed out on the sidewalk, and most people wouldn't blame their own clumsiness on others!" She snarled.

Ai seemed taken aback at her response, but quickly fired back, "What kind of idiot let's herself starve so much that she faints, anyways?"

"Wha- How did you know?" Suddenly, her stomach growled loudly, with horrifyingly perfect timing. Ai-San smirked infuriatingly, self-satisfaction coming off of her in waves and plastered all over her features.

"And that's why you should eat, instead of arguing." Ai-San said, gesturing to Evangeline's stomach.

Biting down a retort, she surveyed the food, sinfully tempting. Her common sense told her that it was rude to take food from strangers, and besides, who knew if the food was safe from germs? But. . . It smelled so delicious. Pausing, she battled internally, and indulgence won. She speared it with a fork eagerly, shoveling it into her mouth. She would fix her weak self control later.

"Mmmm," she sighed happily. It had to be the best omelet she had ever eaten, fluffy, light, yet rich in flavor. Finally looking around at her surroundings, she noted the kitchen and the lockers, and knew that she had somehow wound up in a restaurant. What kind of restaurant was named Maid Latte? Was it one of those strange maid cafés she had heard about?

Ai-San watched her, a frown prickling at her mouth. Evangeline noticed the look, and turned around, feeling more than a bit irritated with her so called heroine. She returned the look with a glare of her own.

"Do you need something?" she asked, another bite of omelet on the way to her mouth. Yes, she was being rude, but the omelet was so decadent that she couldn't find it in herself to care.

After a pregnant pause, Ai-san spoke. "You never told me your name."

She had expected something more rude, and let her retaliation die off awkwardly. "Oh."

Glancing down, she muttered, "Evangeline," and paused, fishing for a last name, one that didn't lead to that wretched family of hers.

"Evangeline. . . Usui."

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><p>AN: And there you have it. Btw, I've been reading S•A, and I've noticed so many similarities between that and Kaichou wa Maid-Sama. . . The competition between the 2 main characters, the blonde, good looking European guy, the dark-haired, intelligent, romantically inept heroine, not to mention the character who's a GIRL who dresses like a GUY. Sound familiar? Anyone else realize this? Because it just struck me. :O<p>

To clear any possible confusion, our heroine here has a horrible name memory. Poor Aoi - I mean Ai - chan. . . .

So, WHO exactly is Evangeline? When will the Walker family get involved? What will happen between her and Usui? All this and more, on the next chapter of . . . . Broken Toys! (Sounds like an ad, doesn't it?)


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